Strategy Meeting

The night air was thick with the smell of rain and impending ****. Inside the command tent, the atmosphere was even heavier.

Mulan knelt between my legs.

She was getting better at this. Not because she wanted to, but because she was a soldier, and soldiers adapted to survive. She was out of her armor, wearing only her thin under-tunic, the binding cloth loosened just enough to allow me access to her chest, but tight enough to remind her of her cage.

"Grip strength," I reminded her, looking down.

Her small, calloused hands were wrapped around my length. She was stroking me with a rhythmic, **** focus, her eyes squeezed shut.

"You're too tense, Ping," I scolded softly, running a hand through her short, messy hair. "You treat it like a spear. Treat it like... diplomacy."

"I... I'm trying, sir," she whispered, her voice trembling.

I leaned back in the heavy wooden chair behind the tactical table, watching her work. The pleasure was sharp, fueled by her fear and the sheer wrongness of corrupting China's savior.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from outside.

"Inspector! Are you awake?"

It was Captain Li Shang.

Mulan froze. Her eyes flew open, wide with panic. She scrambled backward, almost tripping over her own feet.

"Shang!" she hissed. "He's here! He's coming in!"

She looked around frantically for a place to hide, grabbing her pile of armor. "I have to-"

"Stay," I commanded.

My voice froze her in place.

"If you run, you look guilty. If you hide, you look like a coward."

I pointed to the space under the heavy oak table I was sitting at. It was draped with a long, imperial banner that touched the floor.

"Under."

"But-"

"Under!" I snapped. "Now!"

Mulan dropped to her hands and knees and scuttled under the table just as the tent flap swept open.

Li Shang marched in, carrying a scroll map and a lantern. He looked flustered, his usually stoic face lined with worry.

"Forgive the intrusion, High Inspector," Shang said, bowing stiffly. "But we have received a scout report. The Huns... they are moving faster than we anticipated."

I didn't stand up. I remained seated, adjusting my robes to cover my lap, though beneath the wood, I was still fully exposed.

"Is that so, Captain?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. "Sit. Show me."

Shang hesitated, then pulled up a stool to the opposite side of the table. He unrolled the map, spreading it out between us.

"Here," Shang pointed, leaning forward. "They burned a village in the Tung Shao Pass. If we don't intercept them at the ridge, they will bypass us and head straight for the Imperial City."

Under the table, Mulan was curled into a ball, clutching her knees, terrified to breathe. She was inches from Shang’s boots. If he kicked out, if the banner lifted... she was dead.

I shifted my legs, nudging her with my boot.

She flinched.

I reached down blindly with one hand, finding the back of her head. I pushed.

Mulan understood the order. Her breath hitched.

No, she mouthed in the darkness. Not now.

I pressed harder. Do it.

Shang was tracing a supply line on the map. "My troops aren't ready, Inspector. You saw them today. They lack discipline. They lack focus."

"Focus is a matter of motivation," I said smoothly.

Under the table, Mulan shuffled forward. She was shaking violently. She crawled between my knees. She hesitated for a second, listening to the voice of the man she admired, the Captain she wanted to impress.

Then, she surrendered.

She leaned forward and took me into her mouth.

The sensation was electric.

"I agree," Shang continued, oblivious. "But how do I motivate men who have never seen combat? They are frightened."

"Fear is a tool, Captain," I said, my voice straining slightly as Mulan’s hot mouth descended. She was working tentatively, terrified of making a sound. "You must... push them."

I grabbed Mulan’s hair under the table and thrust my hips forward.

Gulk.

She gagged silently, tears streaming down her face in the dark.

Shang looked up, furrowing his brow. "Sir? Are you alright?"

"Fine," I breathed, gripping the arms of my chair. "Just... an old war injury acting up. A stiffness in the... lower back."

"Perhaps you should see the medic?" Shang suggested earnestly.

"No need," I said, looking Shang dead in the eye while his best soldier sucked me off two feet away. "I am having it... attended to."

Mulan was crying now, the humiliation absolute. She was pleasuring the corrupt Inspector while her hero sat right there, discussing honor and duty. The duality broke something inside her. She stopped resisting and started sucking harder, needing to finish this, needing to end the risk.

Her tongue swirled around the head. Her hand stroked the shaft. She was using everything she had learned in the last two nights.

"The ridge," I managed to say, pointing at a random spot on the map. "We ambush them... here."

"A bold strategy," Shang mused, rubbing his chin. "High risk. But if it works..."

"It will work," I groaned, feeling the pressure build. Mulan was going fast now, bobbing her head in a frantic rhythm. "It has to... release."

I tightened my grip on the table edge.

"Dismissed, Captain," I ordered abruptly. "I need to... meditate on this plan."

Shang blinked, surprised by the sudden dismissal. "Sir? But we haven't discussed the artillery-"

"I said dismissed!" I roared.

Shang stood up instantly, snapping a salute. "Yes, High Inspector. Good night."

He turned and marched out of the tent.

The moment the flap closed, I let go.

I grabbed Mulan’s head with both hands under the table and drove into her throat.

"Take it," I whispered harshy.

I fired.

I unloaded deep inside her, her throat contracting around me, her muffled whimpers filling the small space beneath the oak. She swallowed convulsively, **** to drink every drop of her treason.

I sat there for a long moment, panting, recovering from the sheer adrenaline of the act.

Then, I kicked the chair back.

"Out," I commanded.

Mulan crawled out from under the table.

She looked wrecked. Her hair was a mess, her face red and streaked with tears and saliva, her knees dusty. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking at the door where Shang had just left.

She looked at me with a mixture of hatred and absolute, crushing defeat.

"You..." she whispered. "You made me..."

"I made you a useful asset," I said, standing up and buttoning my trousers. "You served the Empire tonight, Mulan. Just not the way Shang thinks."

I walked over to her and tilted her chin up.

"Go clean up. We march tomorrow."

She pulled away from my touch, grabbed her armor, and fled into the night.

I watched her go.

She was broken.

Now, she was ready for war.